


Moving Day

by Maizeysugah



Series: The Mudblood Relocation Camp Tales [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Fluff, M/M, Poker, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maizeysugah/pseuds/Maizeysugah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Voldemort has decided to shack up with Harry, converting his cell into chambers. Having a wild party in the place the night before the place is trashed. Smutty sex is always to be had during times like these.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RRW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RRW/gifts).



> I'm gifting this to RRW because she always lets me know if she likes something. Thanks, doll!

“Seriously?” Bellatrix Lestrange made a little face at the Dark Lord as he levitated his wardrobe down the hallway. 

“What?” he said, gawking back at her. “What’s your problem now?” 

“You’re really moving in with him? With Harry Potter? Into his prison cell?” she asked him, seriously questioning his judgement. “Don’t you think that sounds a bit…odd, my Lord? I mean, you already let his friends hang out with him every day now. He threw a big party last night, it kept everyone on this cell block awake all night. I got more than 20 complaints! There were bloody Death Eaters in there partying with Mudbloods! This is the Mudblood Relocation Camp for Merlin’s sake! You’ve gone soft because of him, my Lord!” 

He opened and closed his hand in quick succession to mimic her mouth and rolled his eyes before pointing his wand at her. “You’ve got to the count of three to apologise and get the fuck out of my sight for questioning my judgement. One…” 

“I’m sorry, master!” she cried and bolted for a cell door, finding it locked. “Oh gods!” 

“Two…” Voldemort said, staring blankly at her as she scrambled down the hall for escape. “Three!” he shouted as she rounded the corner to leave his sight. He shook his head and resumed levitating his wardrobe, utterly disappointed with the foolish woman. He opened Harry’s cell door and shouted “You decent?” before entering. 

“Yeah, c’mon in,” Harry shouted back. He looked up from his cards to give the man a smile. Everyone else around the poker table greeted the man with averted eyes, saying “Welcome, my Lord,” and “May we help you with that, my Lord?” but the man waved them off to resume their game. Their poker game had carried over from the night before because sometimes egos get in the way of niceties. This meant war. 

Draco Malfoy tossed his cards across the table. “I fold.” 

Harry snickered and tossed three golden Galleons into the pot. “I raise,” he said, wagging his eyebrows at Severus Snape. 

Snape arched an eyebrow in return and tossed five golden Galleons into the pot. “I raise, too, Potter.” 

Harry’s lip twitched. He glanced at Hermione, who had already folded. She looked at his hand and gave him a little nod. “I’ll see you,” he said, dropping two more Galleons into the pot. 

“That’s not a very good hand, Harry, why would you put more money in for a pair of threes?” 

“What the fuck, Voldemort?” Harry shouted, slamming his cards down on the table and glaring up at the man leaning over his shoulder. Snape was in stitches as he slid his winnings towards his already large pile of coins. Harry gestured to his tiny pile. “It’s called ‘bluffing’. I was about to win my money back and you blew it.” 

“I think that’s our cue,” Ron said, nudging Hermione. Everyone got up from the table, waving good-bye as they left the cell. Harry pointed to his own eyes then at Snape, letting him know this wasn’t over, not even close. 

The large room was trashed. There were empty bottles of Butterbeer and corks all over the place. There was graffiti spray painted on the walls. Someone wrote ‘Gryffindors Rule!’ and someone else drew a crude Dark Mark on top of that. Someone carved stick-figure pornography into the dining table, which was also covered in vomit that was leaking onto the floor. “My god, Harry, what the hell happened in here last night?” Voldemort asked him, completely floored. 

“Gimme the wand, I’ll clean it up,” Harry teased. It was a running joke he liked to play, and perhaps one day he might slip up and actually give it to him. 

“Yeah, sure,” Voldemort said, holding his wand up over Harry’s head. “Come on, it’s yours if you can take it,” he added, dangling it over him and giggling at the young man’s failed attempts at leaping for it. 

“You’re too damned tall, bastard,” Harry said, pouting. 

The Dark Lord embraced him and kissed the top of his head while he pointed his wand around the room to clean things up. He lifted Harry’s chin and kissed him on the lips. “Come on, pouty, I know what will cheer you up,” he said against his lips. He coaxed him over to the bed but stopped just short of throwing him into it. “Ah gods,” he whined, looking at the state of the sheets. “Sssssomeone had sex on our bed, Harry,” he slurred, completely offended. 

“Yeah, that,” Harry said, cringing in his arms. “Don’t ask. You don’t want to know. Trust me.” 

Someone was snoring under the bed, as well. “What the hell? Is someone down here?” The Dark Lord kicked the frame, incensed. “Get up! Get up!” 

Kingsley Shacklebolt rolled out from beneath it and stood up. “Damn, did I fall asleep?” He looked at the Dark Lord and began to panic. “Ooh, sorry, my Lord!” He ran out of the room hurriedly. 

“Back to your cell right now!” Voldemort shouted, waving his wand threateningly. He gaped at Harry. “These people…” 

“Sorry about that, LV, it got pretty intense in here last night,” Harry said. He got up on his toes and kissed him. “Clean the bed up and let me make you forget about this nightmare, okay?” 

“Fine,” Voldemort said, whipping his wand around over the bed. “But I’m locking everyone’s cell doors tonight. Absolutely ridiculous, sleeping in _MY_ bed. Unbelievable.” 

Harry shimmied out of his jeans and tore the other man’s robes open. The Dark Lord was wearing a suit underneath, he looked so fucking hot. “Ooh, love it, leave the tie on,” he whispered, and climbed backward onto the bed. 

The older man lunged forward, snagging Harry by the hand. “Come here, you,” he said, dipping his tongue into his mouth. 

Harry unbuckled his belt for him while they kissed, needing that cock of his to be moving inside of him imminently. 

“Ooh, I can’t wait to _Slytherin_ that perky little arse of yours,” Voldemort said. 

Harry blinked. 

“Get it? Slither in? Slytherin? Forget it…” Voldemort went back to kissing, it seemed he was much better at that than humour. 

“Stop talking and get on the bed,” Harry ordered, taking the man by his tie to reel him in. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Now clad in only his knickers he helped Lord Voldemort unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. “Goddamn you look so hot,” he said again, delirious with lust. He ran his finger up the length of the lord’s torso, flicking his nipples with the pads of his thumbs. 

Voldemort hissed in a deep breath at the sensation. “I want to bounce you on my dick all fucking night long,” he told the young man as he freed him from his knickers. He got his hand wet with lubricant and took Harry’s elegant cock in it to press the foreskin back and rub his thumb around in the sticky liquid dripping onto the sheets. He nuzzled into the soft waves of Harry’s wild hair and inhaled the scent of it and ran his free hand down the length of his strong back to rest it on the swell of his arse. 

Both still on their knees, Harry rested against the man’s lightly muscled chest to wrap his arms around his neck, absorbed in what his lover was doing to his cock. “Mmm, gods that feels good. I love coming in your hand.” 

“I’m pleased,” Voldemort whispered against Harry’s neck while he sipped and kissed the damp skin of it. The boy shivered with arousal against the schismatic man as errant fingers began moving inside of him.

Gently, Harry tugged on the tie, easing his lover’s lip against his. “I’m going to come, kiss me.” 

Lord Voldemort smiled and kissed him, hot and wet as he felt him quiver and felt his juices drizzling over the back of his hand. “Thats right, my pretty baby,” he cooed, cuddling him while he recovered in his arms. “So pretty, my baby, so pretty…” He dropped down on his back, bringing Harry on top of him. He slicked himself up, and dropped the lube on the bed. “Sit on my cock, baby.” 

Harry sat up on his knees and eased himself down over the man’s impressive prick to fill himself up with it. Voldemort’s eyes rolled back in his head while Harry bobbed up and down over him.

He increased the pace after a time, building the pressure up inside of the man under he was pleading for release. 

The Dark Lord canted his hips into Harry, unable to wait a moment longer for the pleasure to crest. With a volley of urgent thrusting and rushing pulling he came in strong waves inside his lover’s body until he could no longer breathe. 

Harry dropped down beside him, kissing his lips, licking the sweat pearling on the man’s top lip. “That was amazing,” he whispered in a husky drawl. He turned his head away then, pouting. 

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Voldemort asked him, seeing Harry had suddenly grown a sour look. “Is something wrong? You sick? I didn’t hurt you during sex, did I?” 

“I’m just thinking about How I’ll probably never be a Gryffoutdoor,” he said, shrugging. 

The Dark Lord tipped his head to the side. “A what?” 

“I fear the rest of my life I’m going to stay a Gryff _indor_. Get it? In door, I’m in prison…” He grinned, very pleased with himself. 

Voldemort shook his head. “That was worse than mine.” 

Harry wrapped his arms around him. “Not even Snape can Severus apart. Yeah?” 

“Stop.” 

“Are you Sirius? That’s Riddikulus!” 

Voldemort groped for his wand. “I’m going to stun you.” 

“You had me moaning like Myrtle!” he shouted, holding Voldemort’s arms at his sides so he couldn’t get the spell off. “I’m _your_ Chosen One! I want your Horcrux inside of me! You sure do know how to use that wand of yours, or Hagrid’s not the only giant in this prison!” He frenetically pointed down to Voldemort’s crotch. “I’ve got a million of them, old man, you’ll never out-pun me.” 

“Oh yeah? Knock knock,” Voldemort said, remaining calm. 

“Who’s there?” Harry asked him, intrigued. 

“You know,” the lord replied, smirking. 

“You know who?” Harry said, wondering where this was heading. 

Voldemort pointed to himself and waited. 

Slowly, Harry’s eyes widened. He started laughing, falling back on the mattress in a fit of giggles. 

The Dark Lord flashed a grin. “See? I can be funny.” 

Harry pecked his lips with his own. “Yes, I suppose you can, darling.” 

Not yet finished, the Dark Lord added, “I don’t need to say _Accio!_  to make you come.” 

“Okay, we’re done,” Harry said in all seriousness, clamping a hand down over Voldemort’s mouth. He sat over the other man holding him down and keeping him silent, just staring into his eyes for a moment before he couldn’t stop himself anymore. “I could ride your broomstick all day. Don’t look at me like that! What else was there to do while sitting in a damned smelly tent all day in a terrible mood while you hunted me down like an animal? Hm?” He went on, unable to contain the myriad of bag jokes and puns he, Ron and Hermione had made up during their time hunting for Horcruxes. “Where was Dumbledore’s Army hiding? Up his sleevy! Why did Barty Crouch Jr stop drinking? It was making him Moody! Okay, don’t kill me - I’ll stop!” He backed up on the bed the instant Voldemort’s eyes lit up blood-red. 

Voldemort sat up in th bed, scowling. “I just have one thing to say to you, Harry…” 

Harry cringed. “And what’s that, Voldemort?” 

The Dark Lord cleared his throat and tapped his wand in palm. “I’d let you write in my diary anytime for a chance to get you into my Chamber of Secrets.” 

Harry dropped onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes, feigning death. 

“Oh, damn,” Voldemort said, looking down at the young man. “That bad, eh?” 

“Yes,” Harry said, remaining dead. There was a crash in the bathroom. Both men sat up abruptly, covering their nudity with sheets. “Someone must have passed out in there.” 

“Out!” Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at the loo door.

Minerva McGonagall stepped out into the chamber looking worriedly at Harry. “Please tell me you’re under the Imperious Curse, Potter, please,” she pleaded, envisioning his dead parents rolling around in their graves. 

Voldemort waved his wand, directing her to the cell door. “Keep moving.” 

“Stop judging me,” Harry whispered under his breath, watching her leave. 

“ _Obliviate!_ ” Voldemort cast on his lover to take the hurt away from his features. He snuggled up against him while he lay dazed. “Sleep, love,” he said, sending him off into slumber. He petted him as he sat there with pure love in his heart, knowing he’d gone soft but not giving a fuck anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know these are dumb as fuck but they are fun as hell to waste time on while the kids are at school and my husband sleeps (he works midnight's). Every time I sit down to write my little kitty climbs up in my lap and falls asleep. He's super soft!
> 
> If you liked this let me know or give me kudos, please! I always appreciate them, they make me smile.


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